


When You Laugh

by GreyMichaela



Series: Colorado Avalanche [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Coda to It Just Feels Right, M/M, porn and boys being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: Tyson shakes the water off his hands, going for nonchalance despite the way his pulse kicks up. “Locked in a bathroom together? People will talk, Gabriel. Is that what you want?”Gabe pushes off the door—whichislocked, Tyson notes with the single brain cell not occupied by the giant Viking leaning over him.





	When You Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Real people, work of fiction, etc.
> 
> A couple of people asked for Tyson and Gabe's getting together story after Josty and JT, so here y'all go

Tyson pushes open the bathroom door and makes for the sink to splash his face. The cold water is a shock to his system, making him gasp, and it helps slow the spinning in his head, brought on by too much alcohol and proximity to one Gabe Landeskog.

When he straightens, the selfsame Gabe is leaning against the door, thumbs hooked in his pockets and eyes sharp under their half lids.

Tyson shakes the water off his hands, going for nonchalance despite the way his pulse kicks up. “Locked in a bathroom together? People will talk, Gabriel. Is that what you want?”

Gabe pushes off the door—which  _ is  _ locked, Tyson notes with the single brain cell not occupied by the giant Viking leaning over him. 

“Are you doing it on purpose?” Gabe growls.

Tyson blinks, thrown. “Sorry, doing what?”

_ “This,” _ Gabe says, waving vaguely at him. 

“You just gestured to all of me,” Tyson points out.

“Don’t quote my favorite movies at me when I’m trying to be serious,” Gabe snaps, and Tyson can’t help his laugh.

“Dude, what are you  _ on _ about?”

“You. This. The way you—” Gabe scrubs his hands through his hair. “You’re driving me  _ crazy, _ Tys. Do you even realize that?”

Tyson’s mouth falls open. “You— _ oh.” _ Delight bubbles under his breastbone and he takes a tiny step closer. Gabe’s eyes widen but he holds his ground. He smells as intoxicating as ever—his woodsy aftershave blending with the tequila he’d been drinking and the beer Tyson had spilled on him earlier during the retelling of one of his favorite stories. Tyson holds his breath as he reaches across the small space between them and slips a finger into Gabe’s belt loop. When he pulls, Gabe goes easily, so that they’re pressed together from thigh to chest.

Gabe’s swallow is audible even over the music from the dancefloor. “Tys,” he whispers. “D-don’t—”

Tyson lets go like he’s been burned. “Don’t?”

“No—” Gabe is already shaking his head, reaching for him, eyes dark and pleading. “Don’t… unless you mean it, Tys. I want—”

“Fuck, Gabe, I’ve never meant anything more,” Tyson says, and surges up on tiptoe to kiss him.

Gabe meets him halfway, mouth wet and sweet, soft with longing and sharp with the aftertaste of liquor. Unsurprisingly, he kisses as well as he does everything else, but Tyson likes to think he’s holding his own, slipping his tongue into Gabe’s mouth as he twines both arms around his neck. Gabe doesn’t seem to be complaining, judging by his full-body shudder when Tyson presses a thigh between both of his.

_ “God,” _ Gabe gasps as he breaks free. He layers kisses down Tyson’s throat, bending him backward to get better access. “You know how  _ long—” _

Tyson clings to him, head whirling. “About seven inches,” he manages, and startles a laugh from Gabe. Tyson loves it, loves when Gabe is purely, uncomplicatedly happy, and he loves it even more when he’s the one who’s responsible for the smile dancing in Gabe’s blue eyes.

“I want to blow you,” Gabe says, and Tyson nearly swallows his own tongue.

_ “Here?” _

In answer, Gabe goes to his knees. The wicked glint in his eyes is visible in the dark room, and Tyson jams a fist to his mouth as Gabe reaches up to undo his belt buckle.

“Gabe, wait, hang on—” Tyson fends off Gabe’s hands until he sits back on his heels, raising one brow.

“What?”

Tyson lets his head thump back against the wall, pressing the heel of his hand to the bulge in his crotch. “I’m going to die,” he tells the ceiling very earnestly.

Gabe snickers and tugs on Tyson’s zipper.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Tyson mutters, but he doesn’t stop him. 

He hisses when Gabe lifts him out of his underwear, hefting the weight of him in his palm.

“Condom?” Gabe asks without looking up.

Tyson fumbles for his wallet with fingers that have suddenly gone numb. The condom he keeps in there had probably expired months ago, but it’ll still serve the purpose. He hands it over shakily and Gabe’s eyes soften. He catches Tyson’s hand, turning it so he can plant a kiss on the inside of his wrist.

“Relax,” he murmurs.

“Relax, he says.” Tyson rolls his eyes. “You try having a Norse god about to give you a blowjob, let’s see how relaxed  _ you _ are.”

Gabe starts laughing and can’t stop, leaning forward to press his forehead against Tyson’s thigh as his shoulders shake. 

“Knock it off,” Tyson tells him, trying to sound stern, but Gabe predictably ignores him. “Ga-abe,” he whines, and Gabe gulps for air and sits back on his heels.

He looks so pleased with himself that Tyson can’t help stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. Gabe smiles up at him and rolls the condom into place with smooth, easy motions. He follows with his mouth before Tyson has time to react.

Tyson’s head hits the wall and he stifles a truly embarrassing noise with his fist. Gabe’s mouth is as hot and perfect as the rest of him and he’s found the right rhythm immediately, tight wet suction that’s making Tyson’s eyes cross.

The bass from the dance floor thumps in Tyson’s teeth, lights kaleidoscoping across his closed eyes. Of course Gabe’s good at this too. Tyson would complain but he can’t actually remember how to breathe, let alone speak.

Gabe hums and Tyson gasps, eyes flying open. He looks down. Gabe is looking up at him, wet lips wrapped around Tyson’s cock, and that’s it, Tyson can’t hold out against that sight. He comes with a strangled noise, pretty sure he’s making a very unattractive face but unable to care over how good it feels. 

Gabe eases him through it until Tyson sags backward and then gently strips the condom off and tosses it in the trash. Tyson’s absolutely no help whatsoever as Gabe gets his underwear and pants up into place and buckles his belt, but his brain’s slowly coming back online by the time Gabe rocks to his feet.

“Your turn?” he asks, his voice even huskier than usual.

Gabe wrinkles his nose. “I’m not getting a blowjob in a public bathroom, Tys. That’s gross.”

Tyson’s mouth falls open. Gabe’s already laughing as he twists away from Tyson’s weak fist, and he ducks back in, under Tyson’s flailing arms to gather him close.

“You’re—mmf—an  _ asshole,” _ Tyson tells him, squirming to get away.

“I know,” Gabe says. He’s still giggling, and Tyson should  _ not _ feel like this about his captain, one of his best friends, but there are butterflies in his stomach from the warmth in Gabe’s eyes. 

Tyson stops wriggling, and Gabe sobers. They’re standing chest-to-chest again, Gabe looking down into Tyson’s face.

“Hey,” Gabe says softly.

“Hey back,” Tyson mumbles, and hides his face in Gabe’s shirt so Gabe won’t see him blush.

Gabe strokes his back. “Can I take you home, Tys?”

Tyson nods. It takes a few more minutes before they’re able to disentangle themself and step apart, and somehow Gabe’s holding his hand when they do. Tyson looks down at it and back up at him. 

“Okay,” he says, half to himself, and follows Gabe out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no idea if How to Train Your Dragon is one of Gabe's favorite movies, but it _should_ be.


End file.
